


Snowed In

by Lovelyziam



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Getting Together, Little Spoon!Liam, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Snowed In, because i live for that shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:36:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21629233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovelyziam/pseuds/Lovelyziam
Summary: “Yeah, well,” Liam mumbled. “We’re lucky they even had a room left. It’s not exactly like that’s a small storm out there.” Liam brought a hand up, pointing to the window across the room from them where snow was coming down in fat flakes, making everything outside practically invisible. “We weren’t the only ones forced off the roads when they closed the bridge down, but fortunately for us we were the people who managed to snag the last room here.”Liam shouldered his way past Zayn, setting his duffle bag down by the desk in the corner before spinning to face the bed in the middle of the room.The bed. Singular. Which meant him and Zayn would have to share, and wasn’t that just fucking fantastic? Sharing a bed with the man Liam was ass over teakettle for? And who also thought the mere idea of dating Liam was repulsive, apparently?Yeah, should be a fucking dream. Easy as pie.
Relationships: Zayn Malik/Liam Payne
Comments: 16
Kudos: 150





	Snowed In

**Author's Note:**

> For Mara, because she said she was sad and I could NOT have that!

Liam felt a quiver make its way up his spine as he gulped down the panicked noise that tried to escape his throat.

Why did bad things keep happening to him?

“Well, this is rather awkward,” Zayn murmured next to him, bringing a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. He had a pinched look on his face; like the situation him and Liam were being forced into physically pained him. The look sent a bone-deep ache rocking through Liam, who quickly turned his eyes back to the room in front of them, hoping to hide the hurt look on his own face at Zayn’s words.

Now was so not the time to dwell on Zayn’s feelings about Liam—or lackthereof. The last thing Liam wanted to be thinking about right now was Zayn’s absolute insistence that nothing even remotely romantic would ever happen between the two; Zayn didn’t have feelings for Liam, and he’d made that _quite_ clear every time someone had jokingly brought the topic up.

Zayn’s quick and _adamant_ ‘absolutely not’ with every joke was enough to drive another tendril of pain into Liam’s—very _dumb_ , very _in love—_ heart.

“Yeah, well,” Liam mumbled. “We’re lucky they even had a room left. It’s not exactly like that’s a small storm out there.” Liam brought a hand up, pointing to the window across the room from them where snow was coming down in fat flakes, making everything outside practically invisible. “We weren’t the only ones forced off the roads when they closed the bridge down, but fortunately for us we _were_ the people who managed to snag the last room here.”

Liam shouldered his way past Zayn, setting his duffle bag down by the desk in the corner before spinning to face the bed in the middle of the room.

The bed. Singular. Which meant him and Zayn would have to _share_ , and wasn’t that just fucking fantastic? Sharing a bed with the man Liam was ass over teakettle for? And who also thought the mere idea of dating Liam was repulsive, apparently?

Yeah, should be a fucking dream. Easy as pie.

“Liam, there’s only one bed.”

Liam let out an inelegant snort, rolling his head to look at Zayn. “Yeah, I can see that.”

Zayn raised his eyebrows, obviously trying to convey a point Liam wasn’t getting. Liam only raised one of his own eyebrows in response.

With a dramatic eyeroll, Zayn crossed his arms. “We can’t share a bed this small, Liam.”

Liam had to bite back to bitter taste of rejection that flooded his system. Zayn had a special talent in always shooting Liam down, even before Liam ever suggested anything.

So instead he just rolled his own eyes and crossed his own arms, taking on a defiant stance when he faced Zayn. “Yeah, well, I ain’t sleeping on the floor. You’re more than welcome to if the idea of sharing a fuckin’ bed with me makes you that uncomfortable.”

Liam didn’t wait for a response—which he _knew_ Zayn had; Liam didn’t miss the look of surprise or the way Zayn opened his mouth, ready for a rebuttal—instead he wrenched his bag off the floor before stomping into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

Once Liam had the barrier of the door between them, he let his shoulder slump and his head drop forward until his chin was tucked into his chest.

This was so fucking ridiculous. The whole situation was cliché as fuck. One fucking bed in the middle of a snow storm. How had this become his life? And who did he go to to submit a formal complaint?

He was so fucked.

Letting out a deep, slightly distressed breath, Liam forced himself away from the door and further into the bathroom. He set about his nighttime routine—changing into pjs and brushing his teeth—all while resolutely reusing to think of Zayn. Really, he was absolutely not thinking of Zayn. Not one bit.

And he definitely wasn’t thinking about the fact that Zayn was on the other side of that door, no doubt plotting a way to ensure he didn’t have to share a bed with Liam. He was _not_ thinking about the fact that Zayn would rather sleep on the _floor_ than share a—admittedly _small—_ bed with Liam. He was _not_ thinking about the fact that the chances of Zayn _actually_ sleeping on the floor instead of the bed were slim, which meant that Liam was _not_ thinking about the fact that in a few moments he’d be _sharing a bed with Zayn. Fuck_.

Liam bent over the sink, spitting toothpaste and rinsing his mouth before straightening up and meeting his reflection in the mirror. He could do this. Nothing weird would happen. Him and Zayn had shared a bed before. So what if that bed had, quite literally, been twice the size of the one in their room? It would be fine. _He could do this without making it weird_. Liam gave himself a small nod in the mirror, before facing the door. He closed his eyes, bracing himself, before opening them and striding back out into their room. He saw Zayn’s head shoot up from where he was slumped at the desk in the corner, but Liam refused to meet his gaze. Instead, he marched over to the bed, dropping his bag a few steps away, before turning off the lamp by his bed and crawling under the covers—his back to Zayn and the door.

He heard shuffling from the desk, before the soft _click_ of the bathroom door. Liam laid in the dimly lit room—the only light coming from the crack under the bathroom door and the lamp on the opposite night stand—staring out at the rapidly falling snow. His eyes were wide open the whole time Zayn was in the bathroom, his nerves running too high and his mind moving too fast. Finally, the bathroom door creaked open and Zayn stepped out, padding over to the bed much softer than Liam had done earlier.

Liam squeezed his eyes shut at Zayn’s approach, feigning sleep. There was a moment of absolute stillness, Zayn hovering by the edge of the bed, before he whispered a soft, “Liam?”

Liam kept pretending to be asleep.

With a soft sigh, Zayn finally slipped under the covers, obviously being very careful to avoid disturbing Liam as he got comfortable.

It was a long time before Liam finally felt himself being pulled into sleep.

*

Liam woke up _extremely_ warm. It was the kind of warmth that you couldn’t help but sink into, the kind of warmth that left you feeling weightless and so, _so_ content. It seemed to start at his back and spread outward—all the way down to his _toes_ —and he wanted _more_ of that magical warmth.

He pushed back into it, wiggling his hips to try and shimmy backwards in the bed, making himself smaller to fit more of that warmth around him, hoping to use its embrace to fall back into that deep, satisfying sleep he had just left.

It wasn’t until his warmth started wiggling back that Liam realized just where it was coming from.

With a clawing sense of panic trying to work its way up his throat, Liam realized that warmth was stemming from _Zayn_. Zayn, who was all but wrapped around Liam. His chest was a solid wall behind Liam, curved around him and half laying on _top_ of Liam. His arm was securely wrapped around Liam’s middle, his hand fisted in the soft fabric of Liam’s sleep shirt. Fuck, he even had his legs wedged right up against—and _in between_ —Liam’s own. They were practically glued together from shoulder to ankle. And the funny thing was, that wasn’t even the worst part.

No, the worst part _had_ to be Zayn’s face—Zayn’s face which was tucking into the back of Liam’s neck, his mouth firmly pressed to the skin there.

Liam was so fucked.

“Mmm, st’p squirm’n,” Zayn slurred out, brushing his lips against Liam’s neck in a gentle kiss before burying his nose in Liam’s hair.

What the fuck was happening?

Liam was like a livewire—he was so fucking tense and confused he was sure he’d blow at any moment. Zayn was _sleeping._ Liam couldn’t just take advantage of the situation and let Zayn unknowingly hold him. No matter how much he wanted to do just that, it wasn’t fair to Zayn who didn’t actually know what was happening right now.

Liam tried to move forward a bit, maybe encourage Zayn to loosen his death grip a bit, but all it managed to do was _tighten_ Zayn’s hold.

Zayn let out an annoyed huff of air, pulling Liam firm to his chest again, before throwing one of his legs over Liam’s hip, which meant Zayn’s own hips were pressed firmly against Liam’s ass—which meant Zayn’s goddamned _hardon was pressed against Liam’s ass_.

 _Fuck_.

Liam just barely bit back his moan as Zayn wiggled closer, swiveling his hips in the process. Seriously, was Zayn _purposefully_ trying to torture Liam?

“Zayn,” Liam grit out, still trying to wiggle his own way out of the suffocating cuddle.

“ _Liam,_ ” Zayn whined behind him, his voice honest to God sounding _petulant_. “Stop moving. Why are you moving so much? I’m tryna fuckin’ cuddle you.”

Liam abruptly stopped all movement, his body going lax in Zayn’s grip almost immediately.

“What?” Liam breathed.

Zayn let out another annoyed huff, aggressively cuddling Liam at this point. “Why’re you so squirmy? You’re not normally this squirmy in my dreams.”

Liam’s mind went blank, much like his tone when he asked, “You dream about cuddling me?”

Zayn let out another whine. “Liam stop talking.”

Liam was quiet for a moment, thinking over Zayn’s words. Zayn _dreamed_ about him—about this, lazy morning cuddles with Liam wrapped up in his arms.

“Liam, stop _moving—”_

“I’m trying to turn around and face you—”

“You’re trying to ruin my cuddle, is what you’re—”

“Seriously, Zayn, moving your fucking leg so I can—”

“Oh my _God_ —”

There was another minute of maneuvering— _struggling—_ before Liam finally got situated, face-to-face with Zayn and still locked in his embrace. He was giving Liam a squinty-eyed glare.

“Hi,” Liam murmured.

“Shut up.” Zayn closed his eyes again, and Liam only grinned in response to Zayn’s grumpy expression. Zayn never did enjoy waking up.

“So, you dream about me, huh?”

“Lia—” Zayn began, a slight wine to his voice, before he abruptly cut himself off. His eyes shot open, immediately connecting with Liam’s own. They stared at each other for a moment before Zayn said, “This, um, this isn’t a dream, is it?”

Liam’s grin only widened. “Nope.”

Zayn squeezed his eyes closed again, but he didn’t—much to Liam’s pleasure—try and break their embrace.

“Well this is fucking embarrassing,” Zayn whispered, and Liam felt a little thrill race through him at the slight dusting of red spreading over Zayn’s cheeks.

Liam took a moment to stare at Zayn, so beautiful in the soft light streaming in from their window, his cheeks a rosy color and his body sleep soft pressed to Liam’s.

 _I love you,_ Liam thought. _I’m so goddamn in love with you._

Zayn’s eyes shot open, wide and clear, darting over to meet Liam’s in clear surprise.

“What?” Zayn gasped, his grip tightening around Liam’s back. Liam felt his brows furrow in response to Zayn’s question, not sure what he was asking about until—

“ _Fuck_ ,” Liam muttered, trying to pull out of Zayn’s arms as soon as he’d realized he hadn’t just _thought_ those words. No, oh _no._ He’d went and fucking _said them out loud_.

“No!” Zayn rushed out, tightening his arms and rolling them on the bed until he was practically laying on top of Liam and effectively stopping his escape. “No! Please don’t run away, Li. Please. I—” Zayn blinked down at Liam, some of the panic leaving his voice when he spoke again. “Please, Liam. Just. Will you please say that again? I-I want to make sure that I heard you. That-that I’m not imagining things—that this isn’t just some stupid dream where you confess your love for me that I’ve had a thousand times.”

Liam immediately softened under Zayn, all his plans of escape falling away at Zayn’s words. Those were dreams he was _intimately_ familiar with. Dreams where Zayn would gently cup his cheek and whisper, _I love you_ before leaning in and stealing a kiss. Dreams where they were playing a game, celebrating their victory and Zayn blurting out a smitten, _you’re the one, Li_. Dreams where they were doing ordinary, everyday things, and Zayn just spoke those three little words like they were _everything_ —and they were, weren’t they? Because if Zayn was having those same dreams—fuck, those same _feelings_ —then that was _everything_ to Liam.

Taking a deep breath, Liam brought a palm up to cup Zayn’s cheek. “I am so in love with you, Zayn. Like, stupidly, ridiculously, in love with you.”

Zayn let out a little disbelieving laugh, his eyes lighting up with wonder and excitement. “Yeah?”

Liam nodded.

“Fuck, Li, me too. So goddamn much. I’m so fucking in love with you, too.”

This time it was Liam’s turn to let out a little laugh—filled with so much fucking _joy—_ before Zayn swallowed it down, sloppily pushing his lips against Liam’s with almost bruising force. It was uncoordinated and a bit gross—morning breath favored no one—but still, it was the best first kiss Liam had ever had.

When Zayn pulled back, he leaned down to rest his forehead against Liam’s, a wide smile drawn across his lips.

“Can we spend the morning cuddling some more, please?” Zayn asked.

Liam felt a sigh rush past his lips, contentment seeping into every pore. “God, yes please.”

Zayn laughed again, moving to press his body more firmly into Liam’s, and tuck his head into Liam’s neck.

They spent the rest of the morning like that—Liam wrapped up in Zayn’s arms, the two of them lazily necking, drifting in and out of sleep, while the snow continued to fall outside their window.


End file.
